The Soulmate
by Rye-bread
Summary: A oneshot. A deathfic.  The battle over, the victory sure, all is well,or is it?  Tragedy strikes, death separates them,or does it?


This is inspired by a couple deathfics; one of my favorite stories, "Sleep", by one of my favorite authors, captainkodak1, and another favorite, "Don't Let Go", by another favorite author, G-Go. It is intended to be an alternate ending to yet another favorite story, "Inner Strength", by Frederick Aloysius. See my "favorites" list.

Following the "Exchange" episode, Monkey Fist sets about to create a counterpart to the Lotus Blade, the Crimson Blade. Yoriko summons Ron, and Kim shadows Ron--much like the "Gorilla Fist" episode. Ron doubts himself, is encouraged by Yori and Kim, and triumphs over Monkey Fist. But what if something goes terribly wrong?

This little one-shot story began as a fanfic scrap. The ending came to me, and I thought about writing a big opus epic to put in front of it. But I put up the scrap at Deviant Art, and captainkodak gave a warm review. I give it as it is, short & sweet.

_**THE SOULMATE**_

In the thick of battle, they all got separated. Yori, Kim, and Rufus were engaged with the monkey ninjas. Ron had squared off with Lord Monty Fiske himself. The blue and red katanas clanged, throwing off sparks. Ron entered a state of mind where he did not fear, or whine, or excuse. He only _did_. The Lotus Blade shattered the Crimson Blade. Fiske howled like the primate he resembled.

The cavern rumbled. A cave-in was imminent. "Everyone out!" Kim had yelled. Fiske retreated with his monkey followers into the subterranean regions, cackling madly. Would he survive, to be dealt with another time? Probably.

They all got out safely--he thought. He breathed the good air and looked around for Kim. C'mon, K.P. Show the Ron-man some love. He would banter with her, she would pretend to be tweaked, and then be her usual sassy, naughty, affectionate self. Except...

"Yori?" Cold dread pierced his heart. Yoriko's face was etched with shock and sorrow.

"Oh, Ron-san--Kimberly-chan is dead--a falling rock."

"Show me."

A procession with torches wended its way back into the cave, led by Hirotaka. Some of the other female ninja students had come earlier to prepare the body to lie in state.

It was true. Kim lay with the blanket drawn up to her bosom. Her hands were folded over the blanket. Her hair was carefully brushed and arranged about her head and shoulders. The lovely emerald eyes were closed, never to open again. Her perfect profile was in perfect repose. She lay in eternal sleep.

The mourners filed quietly out, except for Ron and Yoriko.

Ron drew the Lotus Blade. The blue glow flickered fitfully, like a light bulb about to burn out. He held the pommel of the sword away from himself pointed the tip of the blade to his gut. He should commit the Hara Kiri., the ritual suicide. It was the Bushido way. What was missing was the Kaishakunin, one to stand behind him as he knelt, the one to hold the blade to his neck, to sever his head. This also was the Bushido way. He wondered who might do it. Monkey Fist would have been happy to. But Kim would have disapproved.

His Bar Mitzvah teachings kept coming back to him: thou shalt not kill, even oneself. It was what finally decided the issue. He might miss heaven--he might miss Kim.

He handed the sword to Yoriko, pommel first. "Give this to Sensei."

"Stoppable-san--what will you do?"

"I'm going to meet with Kim."

He wondered how long this would take. Starvation would take weeks. Thirst, just a few days. He had heard stories of people just dying of a broken heart after losing a beloved.

Ron lay down beside Kim's unmoving body. "I'm sorry it took so long to get back, K.P.," he whispered, "But the Ron-man's here; he's not leavin' again--ever." He leaned over and kissed the perfect lips. There was no warmth. He huddled beside her and pillowed his head on her shoulder. "Wait up for me, Kim. I'm comin' as fast as I can."

Ron must have dozed off. He felt someone shaking him awake. He opened his eyes and saw a gnarled hand on his shoulder. An old man in a spotless white robe kneeled over him. Bright keen eyes peered at him from under bushy white eyebrows. A thick white beard stretched from the man's cheeks to his waist.

"Wake up, lad." It was Father Abraham.

Paradise--Ron had made it--except for--"Why wasn't Kim here to greet me?--Father Abraham--Kim made it to heaven, didn't she?"

The eyes twinkled. "Oh, lad, of course she did. But Adonai has decreed--it's very important that I be the first to greet the new arrivals who are of the House of Israel. After all, it's one of the privileges of being the Father of the faithful--just to reassure them. Not everyone has someone who was their very soulmate waiting for them. But speaking of your soulmate, she's waiting for you--just outside the cave entrance. Just follow the light."

And he did. The tunnel seemed much longer than it was when he entered it--but he seemed to move much faster. The light became brighter and brighter. The music became louder and louder. He couldn't tell if it was vocal or instrumental.

It was her. Kim. She turned. The hair as resplendent as sunrise, cascading down her shoulders. The eyes as bright jewels. Tears of joy cascading from those eyes down her cheeks. That smile as bright as the sun reflecting on the water. The beloved voice. "Ron!" She threw her arms wide open.

And he ran to her--for all he was worth.


End file.
